His eyes flash again and his jaw tightens as a muscle jumps in his cheek, but he says nothing.
Typical.
If this were any other guy, I’d say he was jealous. But this isNatewe’re talking about. The very idea is ludicrous.
We stare at each other in stony silence, still pressed together, our chests heaving in sync with the strength of our breaths, our hearts pounding in perfect rhythm. Anger sparks in the narrow slice of space between our faces, so hot and visceral, it practically bends the particles like ultra-heated air on asphalt. For a second, I think I see something else in his eyes, but it’s buried so deep it’s easy to dismiss it as nothing but a trick of light.
One more mirage on a desert road.
“Did you come here to talk about shoes, Nate?” My words are breathy — I tell myself from anger, not desire. “Or did Parker con you into checking in on me while he’s off gallivanting through Europe with his parade of bimbos?”
At the sound of my brother’s name, Nate seems to snap back to his normal self — eyes blanking, expression shuttering until his face is an emotionless mask. In a flash, I’m out of his arms and back on my own two feet, toes sinking into the plush carpet. I don’t see him move, but when my eyes locate him again, he’s across the room once more, leaning in the archway of the kitchen, his face cast in shadow.
“No. That’s not why I came.” His tone is empty, indifferent — back to the hyper-controlled Nate I recognize. “I’m discrete — if Parker needed me to check in on you, you’d never know I was here.”
Cocky, much?
Rolling my eyes, I smooth my hands over my dress and shake the too-long bangs out of my face. I straighten to full height — which, granted, isn’t that tall — but with my hands planted on my hips and my spine stiffer than a steel rod, I feel a little more in control.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re a super badass mercenary. I get it.” My voice is ultra sarcastic. “Care to share with the class something we don’t already know?”
He bristles. It’s not so much something I see, since he’s still standing in the shadows, but something I feel — a change in the atmosphere around us, as waves of anger begin to ripple out from his spot in the archway. Something I said clearly struck a nerve. Before I can begin to guess what, he steps closer. The expression on his face makes my mouth go dry.
Holy frack.
I’ve never seen him look so intense. In fact, I’ve never seenanyonelook so intense. I can almost see the electricity moving under his skin, waves of energy surging through him like a storm. There should be a 10,000-volt hazard sign engraved on his chest:
DANGER! SEVERE INJURY OR DEATHWILLOCCUR!
A warning to those who might be foolish enough to take a man this lethal into their arms.
He’s a live wire on the side of the road — dark, immobile, and seemingly harmless until you step too close and sparks fly out with one fatal snap, killing you where you stand.
He’s brutal. Barbaric.
He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Chapter Three
Let’s just say, I sleep diagonally
across my mattress. Every night.
Phoebe West, reflecting on her relationship status.
Nate steps toward me, his expression darkening like the thunderheads I watch roll across the ocean on summer nights from my balcony in Nantucket. When he speaks, his words are a lightning strike.
“Your date tonight.”
Flash.
“Brett Croft.”
Crack.